


walk through the fire

by celestialsunshine



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, F/F, based off walk through the fire from buffy, lots of fire-related words, mahiru is fire and hiyoko is ice, no plot really, unnamed characters until the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialsunshine/pseuds/celestialsunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two of you are opposites.<br/>She is fire, warming up the dead atmosphere left by your presence.<br/>You are ice, a piercing cold that urges others to stay away.<br/>You touch the fire and it freezes you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walk through the fire

**Author's Note:**

> i literally wrote this because i love walk through the fire and there really is a lack of fics about mahiru and hiyoko.
> 
> of course, the characters belong to the creators of danganronpa and the song belongs to joss whedon and the rest of the people who worked on once more, with feeling.
> 
> a few of the lines are either directly from walk through the fire or are changed versions of particular lyrics, but the last line is from something to sing about.

She is red. She is heat, passion, fire. She is _alive_.  
You are grey. You are frozen, bleak, miserable. You are _empty_. 

She is a fiery orange sunset brightening up the dark city night. She is the powerful ache of being so in love with someone that you can hardly breathe.  
(You know this feeling all too well because of her.)

You are a dull winter's morning with thick fog, with rain pelting against the windows, and ominous clouds looming in the distance. 

The two of you are opposites.  
She is fire, warming up the dead atmosphere left by your presence.  
You are ice, a piercing cold that urges others to stay away.  
You touch the fire and it freezes you.

Why can't you feel? Your skin should crack and peel. It must be because you are completely numb, whereas she is alive and _blazing_. 

When you met her, it really opened your eyes. You used to think that you were just average, just getting by. But being in her presence made you realise that compared to her, you are just an empty shell. She was overflowing with enchanting charisma and charm, and you fell so in love with her that you couldn't sleep for days.

She liked being around girls too, so you made sure to stick close to her, although she made your heart race and your hands shake. She never became infuriated by you like the others did, so you began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, she overlooked your icyness.

But now, through the smoke, she calls to you, to make your way across the flame. It feels like she's taunting you with her bright fire. You know that you could never be like her, never be so blindingly beautiful.  
You wish you were artistic so you could draw her, paint her.  
You wish you were a talented writer so you could express your thoughts and feelings for her in many stories and essays.  
You wish you were good at music so you could compose countless songs about her.  
She is so wonderful, and you wish you could find a way to let people know.

Instead, you find solace in scribbling about her on ancient notebook pages, about how incredible she is, how much you love her.  
You used to think that you didn't really know anything about love, but you believe that you are truly in love with her.

You wish to be near her at all times. You wish to hear her laugh often, always see her smiling. You must be lucky, because she seems to enjoy your company. 

You think about being with her, wonder what it would be like. The two of you would shine bright, or maybe melt away. You guess it's all the same.  
But what if the spark just burned out?

Then all of a sudden, it is no longer just a fantasy. She is with you, holding your hand, kissing you. You feel like you are engulfed in the flame, but it is wonderful. You are full of passion.  
She kisses you, and you feel the fire all around you, illuminating the darkness of the room.  
You feel so _alive_.

But before you know it, the torch you bear is scorching you. She is so real and unguarded with you, and although you love her more than you ever imagined you could, she is just so much, while you are so little.  
Every day with her is a gift, and you need her, but you start to think - what if she doesn't need you? She insists that she does, that she loves you, that being with you is heaven. This does not convince you. You think of the fiery pits of Hell.  
You feel like you are burning alive.

You hadn't planned on it, but one day, almost by accident, you tell her all of this. She doesn't believe you, she _can't_ believe you.  
She takes your hand, and you feel the need to let go instantly, because the heat is so _fierce_ , so _intense_ , that you have to _leave_ , get out of there. 

You tell her everything. You tell her about her radiating heat, beauty, and power. You tell her about fire and ice.  
She is speechless, and you wonder why. You were sure that she knew about all of that, but no, it appears that she did not.  
She denies it all, denies that you are inferior to her, and it makes you _furious_. You hope she fries - you're free, finally free, if she dies. 

Later on, you realise that you didn't mean it. You were just so full of _rage_ and _ire_ , the pain of burning alive, that you wanted her to burn too.  
You're angry again, but this time it is anger towards yourself.  
After all, she is everything to you.

You're drawn to the fire - you will never learn. But because of your love for her, you will walk through the fire, and let it burn.

It all comes to an end eventually. Her flame is so bright, it blinds you, and you just can't take it. You can't take being stuck in her shadow.  
It all ends in a blaze, and that is the last time you ever see her.

Some years later, you hear that she was killed when her house burned down.  
Tragic, strangers say. Ironic, you say.  
Such a fitting end, you think, for Mahiru Koizumi, the girl filled with fire.

 

Some of her last words to you:  
Life's not a song. Life isn't bliss. Life is just this - it's living.


End file.
